[post_intro] [/post_intro] STALKER ALERT: I live right above this bar, so it’s strange that I still haven’t written about it. Oh, I know why that is, it’s because there’s absolutely nothing special about it. I would hit it like Chris Brown. If I had to…

[post_intro] [/post_intro] If you think you can dance salsa but haven’t actually taken any formal classes, I dare you to make a trip to Yuca on a weekend night and make that claim to a sweaty girl in heels and a ridiculous booty. I DARE…

[post_intro] [/post_intro] Similar to getting married or getting someone pregnant, bowling is best done while drunk. The better places like Lucky Strike realize this and serve plenty of alcohol. I’m in no way a prolific bowler. I bowled for the first time in my life…

[post_intro] [/post_intro] Chick-fil-A, also known as Jesus Chicken, is one of the few fast food joints I would openly admit to enjoying. I don’t know what it is about them putting a chicken patty between two slices of bread and calling that a complete sandwich…

[post_intro] [/post_intro] In the past I’ve mentioned how Mexican food is usually only good for tearing another hole in your ass in case you’re filming a DP scene and the black guy packs a wee bit too much spongy tissue to get it in there…

[post_intro] [/post_intro] Miami Beach is well-known for its “boots ‘n cats ‘n” clubs. By the way, if you don’t know what I mean by that, say “boots ‘n cats ‘n” repeatedly. Congratulations, you just beatboxed what a club on South Beach sounds like. Boots ‘n…

[post_intro] [/post_intro] What do the Boiler House and Rick Scott’s future funeral have in common? That the only people in attendance are only present because they’re working there. This place is deader than Paris Hilton’s eye. There’s like, one waitress, and she’s about as attentive…

[post_intro] [/post_intro] There are more tourists hanging out at the Clevelander bar than in Miami International Airport. Aside from their consulate services like issuing passports and travel visas, The Clevelander also happens to be a hotel. The waitresses or whatever were hot as hell… Obviously,…

[post_intro] [/post_intro] THIS IS IT, BRAH, MY FAV HANGOUT SPOT WITH ALL MY BROS AND A FEW OF MY HOS. I GET FUCKING WASTED HERE AT LEAST TWO TIMES A WEEK AND THEN WAKE UP WITHOUT REMEMBERING WHAT MY SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER IS. WE USED…

Obviously, I didn’t feel like writing for today. This happens all the time, don’t feel bad. It’s not you, it’s me; I don’t want to write for your silly ass. Because of that I decided to search through other stuff I’ve written and pawn it…